Cat
The domestic cat presents itself as a remarkably accessible entity. One may acquire a cat through adoption centres, breeders, or the time-honoured method of having a cat simply arrive and refuse to leave. Once obtained, the cat remains consistently present—often excessively so during meal preparation or bathroom visits. The cat does not require philosophical training to perceive, nor does it demand emotional labour to acknowledge. It sits on your laptop, sheds on your jumper, and exists with undeniable physicality. Access to cat requires merely space, resources, and tolerance for furniture damage.
Happiness
Happiness, by contrast, proves maddeningly difficult to access. Despite humanity's collective obsession with obtaining it, happiness arrives on its own schedule, often departing the moment one becomes consciously aware of its presence. The pursuit of happiness has spawned entire industries—self-help books, meditation applications, pharmaceutical interventions—yet remains stubbornly inconsistent in its availability. One cannot simply adopt happiness from a shelter or have it delivered by courier. It must be cultivated, often through activities that seem entirely unrelated to joy itself, such as exercise or adequate sleep.